


Get in, nerds, we're heading to Magenta**

by Tania_me



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Another story, F/M, Gen, almost definitely eventual UST, first person POV, maybe eventual smut, sarcastic MC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-05 15:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12192375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tania_me/pseuds/Tania_me
Summary: **Work title not actually related to content.As I was reading Another Story's prologue, all I could think was, "Never let them take you to a second location, that's where you get murdered." So I started thinking - what kind of circumstances would lead a person to get into a car to the ass end of nowhere after talking to a person on the phone for five seconds, especially an MC who (based on her good end) is pragmatic and practical, and so... here we are. A rewrite of the prologue, and because I can't get it out of my head, probably the rest of Another Story eventually, too, of what's going on outside of chatrooms and visual novels.





	1. I guess we're doing this, then

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue in the prologue rewrites is mostly copyright Cheritz, quoted under fair use and with the intention of hopefully convincing more people to play this game.
> 
> Can also be found on my Tumblr: https://wonky-glass-ornament.tumblr.com/post/165712565783/get-in-nerds-were-heading-to-magenta

I told people I was “between jobs” when they asked what I was doing now. “I’m holding out for the right fit,” I would say, gritting my teeth in a smile I hoped looked sincere. Or sometimes, “I just needed a break from the monotony of corporate life.”

The reality, the truth that my pride wouldn’t let me share, is that I had gotten fired. I don’t even know why. My boss just called me into his office one day and told me they had to let me go. Wouldn’t tell me why. Just shook his head and apologized as he escorted me to my desk to pack up my things and then out the front door. (The personal touch was nice.) And now I couldn’t even get a damn callback. “Too overqualified” is what they’d tell me when I applied at the fast food restaurants. “Not enough experience” is what I got from the white collar office jobs.

My small nest egg had only lasted me a couple of months; I once read somewhere that most people are one missed paycheque from the streets, so I suppose I had lasted longer than most. But time and my money had run out, and now everything I owned that could fit into my suitcase was sitting beside me, the last bit of money in my bank account just covering the cost to buy the vanilla latte currently cooling in front of me as I sat despondently at my favourite café.

I can practically hear the judgement, but it’s not like that small amount could have saved me from eviction, right? I may as well get some enjoyment while I’m still clean enough to be allowed inside the restaurant.

And so I sat, my hands wrapped around my coffee and my eyes glued to the screen of my phone sitting face up on the table. The practical thing to do would be to search for a shelter or to swallow my pride and admit my dire circumstances and face the judgement of my friends and family, but I was currently in the denial phase and scrolling through the “recommended for you” section of the app store instead of facing my reality like a big girl.

I tapped on one that looked interesting; unlike everything else, the icon didn’t look like a poorly traced character from World of Warcraft. In fact, the icon didn’t look like anything – it was a blank space. No description in the description section. The app name was just “messenger.” Curiosity piqued, I tapped the download option and took a sip of my coffee. What kind of app would leave the description blank?

Installation complete. A new app icon popped up into existence on my screen, just a large M against the square grey background. Tapping to open the app, I saw a flash of green text against black background before everything stilled, the text now looking like some sort of computer code. I lifted the phone to get a closer look, and as I did up popped two bubbles from an “unknown” username sending a friendly greeting.

Resisting the urge to send a nonsense reply like “hey ya howdy doodle doo,” what I actually typed was “Who are you? Where am I?”

I waited a beat. The replies came swiftly in succession. Unknown developed this app, hoped they didn’t surprise me, and was an “ordinary” person.

Okay, quotes around the word ordinary is not a thing ordinary people do, and I typed as much in reply. A reply which the app developer evidently took as a joke, because they just told me how funny I was and how they were excited about this new app and were trying to be humble. I mean, okay, app developer, you can be modest without emphasizing how “ordinary” you are.

“The first person to come in is you! I was so worried no one would use it,” they typed.

Well, that seemed like a reasonable worry, considering that the app had no description and was just called “messenger.” Maybe the developer wasn’t very good with how people worked? “Is there something I can do for you?” I asked, playing along. It probably wouldn’t be nice to point out that people generally want to know what an app is for before they download it, not after when the developer logs on to chat with you. Except for me, I guess?

“Thanx for asking,” they typed, “cuz there is a favour I want to ask.” While they seemed to believe it was too much to ask from a stranger, they also said there was something they really want me to help with.

“I’m not buying it,” I replied. I’ll admit I was in a less gracious mood than usual – I was usually polite even to the people at mall kiosks who shove their samples into your face, so my curt response was a bit out of character, but I really didn’t have the emotional currency to do strangers favours right now.

“Why don’t you decide after hearing what I’m selling? It could turn out to be something fun. Even room and board is provided!” they typed. My ears perked up at that. Metaphorically speaking, since I was reading it on a screen. “This isn’t just a messenger app, it’s a messenger game app. I wanted to ask if you could test it out for me. The concept is chatting with good looking guys.”

Okay, hold up. Game tester was a real job people did, right? “For free?” I typed, crossing mental fingers because the real ones were busy typing.

“Wouldn’t that be a win-win for both of us?” The crushing wave of disappointment threatened to drown me. No, one of us desperately needed work and had been hoping you had a miracle offer. “Wouldn’t it be more suspicious if a stranger paid you to do this?” No, because big game companies usually did pay testers, didn’t they?

They went on about the game concept; there were hidden stories, amusing stories, that will stir my imagination, and all I would have to do it play the game and tell him how I felt. Included was a photo of five people, which, I had to admit, was intriguing (where did they find such good looking models for a game with a single developer, and would there be more pictures in the game itself? How much did models like that cost, and would it be worth it for a mobile game? If they could pay models like that, why couldn’t they pay me?), who would be each representing an AI. And, well, I did have a lot of free time and a desperate desire for a distraction.

“Do I just need to choose one to date?” I asked.

“Well, about that… It’s easier to explain over the phone.” I barely had time to read the chat before my phone began buzzing with an incoming call from an unknown number.

This person was really sticking with the mystery angle.

Sighing, I swiped accept and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, it’s me, the one you were just chatting to.” The developer was a guy then. One question of many answered.

“How did you know my number?” I asked.

“It’s automatically collected when you log onto the messenger. But you can only call from within the messenger app.” I guess that will teach me to skim over the app required permissions before installation, I guess.

The man continued on about how he called to explain the app and that he felt it would be more credible if I could hear his voice while he was talking, and on that point I felt I could agree. He sounded entirely normal on the phone. Ordinary, rather than “ordinary.” Apparently, the game tutorial was still being modified and wasn’t available, so he had to describe it over the phone.

It sounded like one of those dating games, except instead of a visual novel format, it was a messenger format, and each character was controlled by an AI which would respond to me naturally, instead of an on-the-rails script. They were members of some sort of fundraising association, and my character would be taking the part of party coordinator.

“Are there any merits in gathering more guests?” I asked. Mostly what I wanted to know was how inviting guests would increase my romance stats with the characters.

“If I told you, that would be spoilers!” he laughed. “But of course, it’s not inviting guests to a party. You can find out the characters’ secrets by chatting with them and talking to them on the phone. It’ll be faster if you just start playing, rather than me trying to explain on the phone.”

Whoa, even phone calls with AI? I wonder how that was programmed. Were they maybe pre-recorded and will reply a certain way regardless of what you said? I was one hundred percent intrigued now.

“So it’s something like the e-boyfriend trend?”

“Yes, except you can see there’s also one woman,” he said. “But this game hasn’t been released yet, and it cannot be revealed to the market.” Non-disclosure agreements were probably standard for the game industry, I thought, nodding along to the man’s comments even though he couldn’t see me. “So to perform the tests, you have to come over here.”

Record scratch. Never let them take you to a second location, screamed a voice in my head. That’s when you get murdered. But on the other hand, he sounded so friendly and normal, and maybe here included the offer of shelter, which would let me put off begging my friends and family for help for at least as long as the testing was going on. The room and board offer had already been put out there, sure, but I had been assuming it was somewhere local.

“Where’s here?” I said, certain the suspicion in my voice carried over.

Somewhere in the mountains and not on maps, he said. Okay, it was definitely sounding more like a spot for either a murder party or a sex cult.

“To maintain confidentiality, it’s being developed in a sparsely populated area,” he said. “I’ll send a car to your place if you tell me your address.”

I hesitated, thinking it over. I super didn’t want to get murdered, that was certain, but I also didn’t want to find myself in a shelter, or worse, calling my family and admitting how bad things were. And yes, I know, every biopic about every serial killer ever has people saying, “but he seemed so nice!”, but this sounded like a really elaborate plot if the plan was to lure me into the woods for murder. I mean, if that had been the intention, surely there would have been a lie about paying me? Because if I was dead, I couldn’t demand the hourly wage that they had promised. And I don’t think someone who’s going around murdering people would have a crisis of conscience over lying about paying me. And room and board meant being able to put off deciding what to do about my current situation. Head in sand option: best option.

Clearly, I had just talked myself into it. I was going to go to the potential murder cabin slash sex cult. Oh, but, one wrench in the plans… “My address? I don’t think that’ll be possible.” Current address: none.

“Just tell me the nearest address, and I’ll send the car where it’s convenient for you.”

Convenient. I told him the address of the café and started gathering my things together with my free hand, making sure the lid on my coffee mug was secure.

“Oh,” he said, as if making an offhand comment, “I’m telling you this in advance, so don’t freak out. The location is also confidential, so we can’t let you see the road to this place. Don’t be scared, and just do as the driver says. I should also go get ready.”

“Get ready?” I asked, images flashing through my head. Knife sharpening? Preparation of the sex cult orgy room? Oiling himself up in Crisco? Digging a pit?

“Yes. Get ready to greet you. My heart’s fluttering from the thought that I can meet you soon,” he replied. Mine was, too, I thought, but that’s more because I was second guessing my decision. Don’t be scared? Well, now I am definitely going to be. “Everything will be complete once you’re here. I’ll see you later.”

He hung up.

Today had barely started, and it was already proving to be more interesting than I had expected. After leaving what little furniture I hadn’t been able to sell (with apologies to my former landlord for forcing them to have to deal with it) and downloading some random app on a whim, I was now about to head off to the mountains to join a sex cult or get murdered, or if I was lucky and the man on the phone was sincere, play a game in exchange for room and board.

I sincerely hoped it was the final option. I wasn’t cut out for a sex cult or for being murdered.

I slung my purse over my shoulder and tucked my phone into a pocket before pulling the handle up on my suitcase and wheeling it outside to wait for the car.


	2. I guess we're really doing this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We arrive at Magenta!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually try to avoid giving MC a name, just because I know some people prefer to self insert and find a named heroine makes that difficult, but while it's easy enough to manage in a one-shot fic, it's really tough to do in a multi-chaptered fic, and I personally find MC or y/n really jarring when reading, so... she has a name.
> 
> The Korean name Nari means lily, and in the language of flowers (http://www.joellessacredgrove.com/language.html#l) which is used quite a bit in Another Story, lily means "purity" or "modesty," which I feel is appropriate to describe V's MC.
> 
> Also on my tumblr: https://wonky-glass-ornament.tumblr.com/post/165955417943/get-in-nerds-were-heading-to-magenta-chapter

I did not have to wait long for the car to appear, as it turned out. After a suspiciously short amount of time (was the driver waiting for me…? But no, how could the man on the phone have known I’d say yes?), a black luxury car pulled up and a man dressed in a suit stepped out, approaching me without hesitation.

“Are you Nari?” he asked, stopping in front of me, but the way he said it made it sound more like a statement than a question. After I nodded, he said, “I’ve been ordered to pick you up.”

“Thank you,” I said, as he reached out to take my suitcase, wheeling it over to the back of the car. I walked over to the backdoor, reaching out to open it as he popped open the trunk and tucked my suitcase inside.

The man moved over to my door as I got into the car, holding it open with one hand and holding out what looked like a scrap of cloth in the other. “The location is confidential, so can you put this sleep mask on?”

A sleeping mask? That was kind of creepy. I was questioning my judgement more and more at this point. “Can I not use it?”

“I’m sorry, but please understand. Even the road leading to the place is confidential.” He continued to hold the mask out towards me.

“Still, no.” How much secrecy did a game company need? What did they think was going to happen if someone knew the location?

“I also have sleeping pills ready for use. If the sleeping mask is uncomfortable, would you take a sleeping pill?”

Yikes, that option was even worse. “I’ll take the mask,” I said, snatching it from his hand. He shut the door and got into the driver’s seat as I settled into the surprisingly plush backseat and pulled the mask on over my face, leaving me in darkness. I clenched my hands together in my lap as he started the car and smoothly pulled away from the café and my last chance at sanity. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to calm down. This was not a mistake, this was an opportunity. Volunteering looked good on your CV. I was making the right decision.

I tried to make small talk with the driver as we drove through the city, but his replies were short and cursory. Since he was clearly uninterested in maintaining any sort of conversation, I gave up on talking pretty quickly into the drive and turned my attention to the car’s movements. The car turned a lot of corners through the city, quite a few more than was probably necessary to get to the outskirts. If I had to guess, I would say the driver was probably trying to confuse my sense of direction before heading to the super secret road to the location. The joke was on him, though – he could have driven in a straight line from the café and I still wouldn’t have had a single idea of where the road to this place actually started. I could get lost in a wet paper bag.

Finally, after about an hour after we left the sounds of the city behind us, the driver told me I was allowed to take the mask off. I squinted at the initial rush of the light as it hit my eyes again after an hour of darkness, glancing out the window curiously once they adjusted. Tall, deep green trees lined both sides of the road, their thickly clustered branches looming above and casting dappled shadows over the road. The road itself was warped and pitted with potholes. It looked as if it had been left unused for years, the changing seasons wearing away at the concrete and nature taking back its rightful place. The car passed over any unevenness with barely a noticeable bump; clearly the suspension was eons above the old junker I had owned before I sold it to buy groceries.

“This place looks pretty,” I ventured, looking to the back of the driver’s head. His eyes briefly meet mine in the rearview mirror before he turned them back to the road. No other response seemed likely. Not a nature lover, then, but he could have at least grunted out a reply. Rude. I sat back against the seat and pulled out my phone, looking at the status bar. No signal. I spent a moment’s consideration on opening up the book app and reading, but changed my mind as the car swerved around a  sharp S curve. Based on this guy’s attitude, I doubted he would pull over if I got carsick, and the idea of spending any amount of time in a car I’d just gotten sick in did not appeal. I tucked my phone back into my purse and went back to staring out the window. And thinking.

Based on the fact that the guy had called me, there was almost definitely a signal out wherever I was heading, which was a relief. Although, on second thought, not that much of a relief. If I had to call the emergency number, it’s not like I could tell them where I was. And on top of that, how embarrassing would it be to explain to the operator that I got to wherever it was by voluntarily getting into a car after talking to a strange man on the phone for a very brief amount of time? I would probably die of embarrassment.

And okay, I know actually dying was worse than dying of embarrassment, but I still experienced a full-body cringe of horror at the very idea of trying to explain away my thought process. “Well, you see, he said room and board, and could you imagine having to tell your mom you got fired and are now homeless?” I could barely believe I had rationalized it to myself, and I was myself.

I could see that this silent drive was going to end with me running my mind in circles until I gave myself a panic attack, another thing the driver probably would not pull over for. Clearing my throat, I leaned forward a bit and asked, “Um, do you maybe have some music we could listen to?”

Instead of replying with words, the driver pushed a button on the car stereo. Much to my surprise, the sounds of the most recent #1 boy band on the pop charts began to emanate from the speakers. I would not have pegged the man as a boy band fan in a million years, but in the most human behaviour I had seen out of him yet, he was tapping his hands to the beat on the steering wheel as we drove.

“Thanks,” I said, settling back and forcing my mind to concentrate on the music, and not on the potential for disaster that lay ahead of me.

The next four hours felt closer to eight, with the driver switching the CD a few times (but never deviating from boy band pop), but the road eventually ended in a small clearing covered with gravel. What appeared to be a path leading off somewhere was visible on the side opposite the road, the middle afternoon sun no longer clearing the trees and casting the path in deep shadows.

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.

“We’re here. Please don’t get out yet.” I jumped at the sudden shock of words coming from the statue that had been masquerading as a driver for the past five hours. “I’m sorry, but you have to wear the sleep mask again.”

“Really? But we’re already here.” He (shockingly) didn’t reply, just sat stoically with the doors left locked, waiting. Conceding defeat, I put the mask back over my eyes, settling the elastic over the back of my head. It was a good thing I wasn’t in a state to be concerned about how my hair looked.

“Mr. Ray has arrived,” the driver said (well, if I was feeling poetic, I would say he intoned, but that sounds a little pretentious) after a few seconds of me sitting in the dark again. I heard the soft click of the doors unlocking, and a louder click as the door beside me opened, letting in a wave of crisp air, the chill shocking after the warmth of the car.

“Welcome,” said a familiar voice. “It wouldn’t have been an easy decision to come here. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Unknown?” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and shifting closer to the door, taking a deep breath of the clear mountain air. Did it smell so nice because I couldn’t see?

“You recognized my voice!” The man sounded ecstatic. “Yeah, it’s me, username Unknown. It’s just a default name because I didn’t set one up in the messenger, though. My name is Ray.”

“Hello.” I reached up to take off my mask so I could see his face before the man’s – Ray’s – voice stopped me.

“Don’t take it off yet. You can’t take it off until we reach your room.”

“My room?” He had promised there would be room and board, and I guess he wasn’t lying. The level in the “probably not a sex cult or murder space” column increased slightly.

“I prepared a comfortable space for you while you’re here,” he said, “since you have to stay here while testing. I hope you like it.”

If it was inside and free, I would sleep on the floor, but I didn’t say as much to the man. “I’m sure I will,” I replied, swinging my legs out the door and reaching blindly for the ground with my toes. I had only kept two pairs of shoes out of necessity, and I was regretting that I had packed my practical flats in my suitcase to conserve space; my current heeled ankle boots were not the best pair of shoes for walking on gravel.

“I’ll hold your hand on the way out of the car, to make sure you don’t trip,” he said. With these shoes, it was a real possibility, so I thanked him and held my hand out. He took it in his, his fingers even colder than the chill in the air, and guided me out of the car. The gravel in the clearing crunched under my feet as I stepped out, my heel shifting in the uneven ground and making me lose my balance, but Ray’s grip on my hand kept me from falling.

“Thank you,” I repeated, straightening up and stepping carefully forward, feeling each step before putting my weight down fully.

“You’re thanking me? No, thank you. You are doing what I tell you to do.” The car door slammed shut behind me, and the soft crunch of the gravel could be heard as the driver (presumably) made his way out of the car. “Just trust me and follow me. Hold onto my hand.”

My options were limited at this point. I left the sleep mask on and held onto his hand as he guided me up what I could only assume was the path I had seen from the car as it had pulled into the clearing. The forest path took about a minute, I guessed, before we hit what felt like cobblestones under our feet. Those cobblestones only lasted a few seconds before I heard the sound of a heavy door creaking open and we walked into what I guessed was a large entry way, because the sound of our footfalls on the hard surface of the floor echoed loudly. We then went up a flight of stairs, down a hallway, up another flight of stairs and through a door, and then through _another_ hallway and _another_ door before we finally came to a stop. The entire trip had taken about five minutes; the very small impression that I could get of the building while being led blindly through it was that it was enormous and had at least three floors. Ray had been silent for our entire walk to wherever the heck we were now, the only sounds during our walk being our footfalls and the occasional hushed conversation barely overheard. So other people were here.

Ray broke the silence after a moment’s pause at what must be our destination. “You have no idea what a relief it was when you said you’ll help.”

“What were you going to do if I had said no?” I asked, itching to take the mask off. My curiosity was bubbling within me and I wanted to see where I was almost desperately. This seemed like an awfully huge place for a small games company, especially one that hadn’t even released a game yet.

“I don’t want to think about it,” he said, sighing deeply. “We could have had to delay the release date. Or it could have been a disaster, no one knows.”

Leaving aside the question of why pushing back the release date would matter to a game that hadn’t been announced, I wondered what he meant by a disaster. Surely there were other people who could test a game in the world. Or maybe he meant fiscally? I guess the longer it was in development, the longer the company had to go without revenues. Maybe the disaster he was talking about was bankruptcy?

“We’re here now, though,” he said. “Come, I’ll remove your mask.” I felt his cold fingers against my face and a slight tug as the elastic got caught in my hair as he pulled it off my head. I blinked as his face came into view.

He was young – younger than I had expected; I guessed he was in his early twenties. His white hair faded into pink at the ends, falling in strands over the pale green of his eyes. In contrast to his pastel hair and eyes, he was wearing deep magenta tails over a black waistcoat, with a white cravat tied in old fashioned ruffles and a teal blue rose tucked into the lapel.

“Hi!” he said, grinning at me cheerfully. “First time seeing each other face to face, isn’t it?”

“Hello… nice to meet you,” I replied. This must be what he meant when he said he was going to get ready to greet me. I wasn’t used to men dressing in evening wear to meet me – in my experience, I had been lucky if they had worn a clean shirt. My friends tried with the blind dates thing, but they’d mostly been unsuccessful.

“Yeah, it feels great to talk to you in person, eye-to-eye,” he said, maintaining that eye contact to an intense level. “Thanks for trusting me and coming here. This is your room.”

Oh, right, my room. I took my attention off the man in front of me and glanced about. The room was very pink, decorated in soft shades of peach and rose. The pastel palette used kept it from being overwhelmingly girly, and it looked comfortable and tasteful, with large, squishy chairs surrounding a small table in the centre of the room and a queen sized bed with a padded headboard set against the far wall. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows made an alcove against on side of the room, the view an endless expanse of trees. A chandelier with pretend candles was the coup de grace of the décor. It looked like a princess’s room from a fairy tale.

“It’s really nice.” I reached out to touch my finger to a petal of one of the fresh roses that sat in a vase on the centre of a small table in the middle of the room. I had definitely not been expecting luxury accommodations from this. But then, what I had been expecting was either murder or sex cult, so this was a very pleasant surprise. I was still alive and fully clothed, and the room was really nice.

“I’ve tried my best,” he said, raising his hand to his heart and smiling at me again. Or possibly still. “Let me know of any inconvenience.”

“It looks amazing, I can’t imagine anything being inconvenient about it. What’s the easiest way for me to get outside? It’s so beautiful out here.”

“You’re free to roam this floor, but for other floors, you’ll have to tell me first.” Hold up, I was on the third floor. He continued, “The reason… you know why, right?”

“No idea,” I said, disgruntled. How much space was there on this floor? What if I wanted to move around? What was the point of being on a mountain if I couldn’t go outside?

“It’s because of security. We can’t have any information leaked. I mean, wouldn’t it be a big deal if someone found out what game we’re developing even before it’s completed? You understand, right?”

I thought about it. Maybe I was stuck in a house on a mountain in the middle of nowhere, but I did still have my phone, so theoretically if I saw some code on the back end and leaked it, it could be a big problem. Plus, he was looking at me so earnestly that I felt like saying anything disagreeable to him would be akin to kicking a giant puppy. So I nodded in agreement. I could pace in circles when I got bored of sitting.

“We still have some time left before I have to go back to work, so I’ll explain a bit about the game. Did you want to sit down?” he offered, waving one gloved hand (half gloved? Those did not look comfortable) at the squishy chair in the middle of the room.

“No, thank you. The car ride was really long, and I want to stretch my legs.”

He nodded, and said, “As I mentioned before, the purpose of the game is to hold a party with the RFA. All the characters that appear there are AIs I’ve designed. There’s one problem as I’ve tried to make the AI super realistic.”

“What problem?” I asked, picturing the scene from the Matrix where Neo gets offered the red pill or the blue pill.

“It’s, umm,” he said, hesitating, casting his eyes away from me for the first time since my mask had come off. “The AIs turn super suspicious when a new person comes in. The concept is that someone hacked their messenger and that’s how you got into the RFA chatroom. Quite suspicious, isn’t it?”

“I would be suspicious if I were them,” I agreed. Kind of like when this guy called my phone after talking to me on that other messenger. “So someone hacked the messenger?”

“Yes. And then you join the chatroom. So everyone will be cautious of you. That’s the setting of the game.” He looked back at me and smiled. “It’s no fun when everyone likes you from the start, is it? They’ll ask you about the hacker, but you can’t answer them because you know nothing. They’ll try to find out how you got the app and where you currently are, and might even try to ask about the creator.” He waved a hand towards himself, his brows lowering over his eyes as his face took on a serious cast. “At that, you can’t reveal the truth. You must keep the secret to the end. Can you promise me that you won’t reveal what we’ve been talking about to the AIs?”

Wouldn’t telling the game characters that they are in a game kind of ruin the point of the game? “Umm, okay.” I nodded and his face transformed into the happy puppy grin from before.

“Thanks! I’m so glad that you’re so cooperative. Meeting you must have been… fate.” He closed his eyes for a moment as if praying. When he opened his eyes, he looked serious again, and said, “You have to be careful! The moment you reveal the truth, it’s game over. Don’t forget – how you got the app, your current location… it’s all a secret. Who I am and the fact that they are AIs are obviously a secret.”

Between Mass Effect and the Matrix, self aware AIs were already a scary concept. I could only assume this was why Ray was so intent on stressing the importance of not mentioning their status, so I nodded again. “Okay, I’ll keep the secrets.”

“You have to be careful. If the game goes through forced shutdown, you have to start over again from the beginning.” Oh, so the issue wouldn’t be on the scale of those two examples, it would just be a hard reset. Slightly less frightening than evil robots taking over the human race.

“Is there anything I should know about the characters?” I asked.

“There are slight differences depending on how you talk to them, but if they don’t accept you into the association easily, say ‘someone called Rika sent me to hold the party’.”

“So it’s like a cheat code? What happens when I tell them that Rika sent me?”

“The game mode changes and the characters will show you some colourful reactions. It’s best if you try this out yourself later. And as I mentioned on the phone, your role in this game is party coordinator. You job is to convince the guests to attend via email.”

“Can I choose a different role?” I asked. I was generally better at being a behind the scenes person, and not a directly interacting with people person. I could do it, I just preferred not to, but I wasn’t sure how well I would do convincing AI potential guests to attend my fictional party.

“Oh, that function doesn’t exist yet,” Ray said apologetically. “But that’s a great idea.”

“Maybe next game,” I said, shrugging and smiling at him.

“Inviting the guests is more crucial than you think,” he continued explaining, “so try to invite them with your best efforts. Don’t forget that there might be more interesting events than the RFA party, depending on what choices you make.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.” I wondered what other interesting events Ray could mean. Secret endings, maybe? I know some games had those. So far, though, the game seemed to focus more on the party than on the romancing characters portion.

“And last of all, and this is the most important thing. You have to tell me what you think as you play the game. Even the smallest thing is okay. Tell me everything, how the party went, what the characters said to you. That way I’ll know how the game is going. Your role is important.”

“It sounds like it’ll end with hosting parties and no chance to build a relationship,” I said.

Ray laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re already truly attractive. The AIs will notice your charm.” I blushed a little at his shameless flattery. “Just keep the secrets well, okay?” He held his hand out to me. “Well then, can you give me your phone for a sec? I’ll install the game.”

“Do I have to?” I asked, hesitating. The phone was my last window to the outside world, and there was no way to guarantee Ray wouldn’t take it and run and leave me languishing in a wing of this building like a heroine in a gothic novel.

“Yeah,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic. “I can’t tell you the download route of the app for security reasons. That’s why someone who knows it has to install it directly. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

He looked sincere. And in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. I placed my phone in his hand, snatching my hand away quickly to avoid the urge to take it right back. “All right, fine. Here.”

“A few moments, please.” He took my phone and began typing, turning the screen to ensure I couldn’t see what he was doing. He hadn’t made a run for it once he had my phone in his clutches, which was a good sign. After a couple of minutes, he handed it back to me. “It’s done. It’ll finish installing in a few minutes. Do you have any other questions about the game?”

“Do you by any chance have a walkthrough guide for this?” I asked. If I was going to play, it would be nice to be able to ensure I was on the path for whichever AI struck my fancy the most.

“Sadly, no. But it’ll be fun to make one with your play data. I’ll think some more about that. And lastly… I know I keep emphasizing this, but don’t forget to keep the secret. Don’t ever try to get the game over easily. Promise me that, please?”

I tilted my head at him, frowning slightly as I turned his words over in my head. It didn’t sound like the AIs would turn into evil world conquering machines if I revealed their secrets, but he seemed suspiciously intent on emphasizing the importance of keeping things secret. “Umm, they’re really AIs, right?”

“No doubt,” he replied, looking almost offended. “You’ll find out right away that they’re not as interesting as me.”

Sighing, he shifted so that he was facing towards the door. “I want to talk to you a bit more, but I have to get going now.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, walking with him to the door. “It was nice talking to you.” And it had been. He seemed sweetly earnest and interested in what I thought about both this room and his game. I guessed it was a passion project for him, rather than one he was hired on to develop, and I felt genuinely inspired to do my best to play the game and provide helpful feedback. My life might currently be in ruins, but maybe I could do something good in the meantime.

“So the plot is that when you start the game, the messenger has been hacked and they’re all surprised that you suddenly entered the chatroom.” He opened the door and smiled at me, waving his free hand energetically. “Okay, then, give it your best, coordinator.”

The door shut behind him with a very undramatic click for what felt like a dramatic moment. I raised my phone and pushed the home button. There was a new game application on my screen that I had never seen before. “Here we go,” I said to the empty space, and I tapped to open the app.


End file.
